


Abrasions

by moongalaxied



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood, Fainting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7689172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moongalaxied/pseuds/moongalaxied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Red doesn't suit Lance.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abrasions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eternaltsundere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternaltsundere/gifts).



> for eternaltsundere! i’m sorry this is so bad rip

There was blood. Blood that traced from Keith's wound and down through his fingertips. It was only a flesh wound, in need of patching up and a few days rest. Then, everything would be back as it should be. There's a red that trickles down the deep slice in Pidge's leg, the small laceration on Hunk's shoulder and the blooming contusion that presents itself on Shiro's forehead. Keith was worried for them, sure, but they all seemed to still be alert, active even if their voices were tired and slightly rasping.

There was only one out of the five paladins, the one who looked the worst out of all of them. _So much blood_ ran from the saviour of the group, the one who had taken the brunt of the attack from them all. Lance - with a broken arm that hung limp at his side like jelly and a profound wound that lay in a slash on his stomach - refused any treatment that the others tried to give him despite looking like he had just been dragged through several thorn bushes backwards, urging the others into the healing pods with a smile on his face.

Lance isn’t one to share how _he_ feels, refusing to show the intensity of his injuries, but it was transparent to Keith. His breath was ragged and his voice was the raspiest out of all of them. So much so that Allura had to ask him an assorted amount of times what he said.

Lance reaches Keith with an expression of suppressed agony, clutching on to the injury where blood spills through his fingers, coating them in crimson. Instinctively, Keith rests his hands gently but firmly against Lance's arms to steady him, taking a moment to brush matted hair from ocean eyes, his hand resting on Lance’s cheek for a few seconds. He feels Lance's body press against his grip, Lance's free arm letting go of his broken one as he tries to push Keith towards the healing pods, but Keith protests, keeping Lance in place. He wasn't going to any healing pod before Lance was with his shuddering shoulders and cold fingertips that pressed themselves into Keith's skin. _Red doesn't suit Lance_ , Keith thinks.

He remarks that he doesn't need them, adding on an affectionate insult as was their usual rhetoric. That the injury that oozes its way down his arm only needs something simple, the smell and bite of antiseptic along with the feeling of being fixed that comes with a clean bandage. 

Still, Lance is trying to push him into the icy chambers and Keith feels something bubble inside of him. Anger, he believes, comes in many forms. The anger that boils in Keith's stomach and rises through his chest only to escape through his mouth is what he dubs as worried anger, caring anger. Keith is still holding him in his arms as the blue and red paladins exchange heated words. Lance tries to fire back with his own point, but only proves Keith's when a flurry of coughs erupt from his chest, blood spattering on his hand as his eyes droop, a low moan resonating from his lips before he hangs loose in Keith's arms.

The last thing Lance hears is the frantic call of his name.

The last thing Keith feels; the last thing he remembers is rage and a thirst for destruction.


End file.
